Episode 9: Walk On
by JPC
Summary: Lorne comes to town, listens to Spike singing, and hears far more information than he bargained for. And after discovering where the next deadly beasty will rise in Sunnydale, he becomes Buffy's very reluctant sidekick. Also, Buffy and Xander start worryi


Lorne comes to Sunnydale to scout Spike's band. And when he listens to Spike sing, he hears far more than he bargained for. Meanwhile, Buffy and Xander worry that Dawn and Connor's relationship is becoming too intense. Willow's friendship with Zooey grows more complex. And Anya gets a new man in her life. Meanwhile, Lorne learns about a deadly monster about to rise in Sunnydale and becomes Buffy's very reluctant sidekick.

His light was on. She knew he was home.

He saw her through the window. He knew she knew he was home.

Buffy turned her back to Spike's crypt. She stood there, thinking of what to do next. She wanted to say something to him. But she didn't know what that something was.

Spike stepped outside. He saw Buffy's back. She was just standing there. Obviously, he was the reason. She wanted to see him. He needed to see her. Then why couldn't he walk up to her? She was only 20 yards away. Why couldn't he call out to her?

Buffy chickened out. She walked away and didn't look back.

Spike chickened out. When he saw her begin to walk away, he took a few steps in her direction. Then he froze. He opened his mouth to say something, but his voice produced only silence.

"What was that book I saw you reading?," Connor asked Dawn.

"You mean Robinson Crusoe?," Dawn asked back.

"Yes, that's the one. I knew it sounded familiar."

"You've read it?," Dawn asked Connor. She had to read it for English class, and part of her wanted to know if Connor had already done her homework.

"No. But when I was young my father used to tell me bedtime stories about him. How he was stranded, all alone, in a world where he didn't belong."

Dawn got the parallel. It reminded her of something she had been meaning to ask Connor. "Steven, what was that place like? Where you grew up."

"Mostly rocks and dirt, lots of red and brown. Very little blue. No ocean. Not like here. Everyone tells me it was some awful place. But it's not. Everything was simple. You hunt. You keep from getting hunted. It was easier than living here. Life's easy when all you have worry about is surviving."

"Were there other people there? Did you have any friends?," Dawn asked.

"No. It was just me and my father. I met other people only after I left. Didn't really like them. People are deceitful. They pretend they're your friend and take advantage of you. People are tricky. At least demons are honest. They don't try to trick you. They don't try to pretend that they don't want to hurt you."

Right then, both of them heard a scream. It was from an alley on the next block. They ran there, and discovered four vampires. One of them held a woman by her hair. When this vampire saw Connor and Dawn, he let go of the woman. She ran out of the alley, right past Dawn and Connor.

The two of them stood at the open end of the alley. As they approached, the vampires slowly retreated. They looked scared. They also didn't seem too bright. After all, they were retreating into a dead end. They were trapping themselves. But both Dawn and Connor knew that as a rule vampires weren't the brightest creatures to walk on two legs.

The vampires quickly backed themselves into a corner. Connor kicked one of them in the chest, knocking him back into a brick wall. Dawn kicked another vampire in the stomach and punched him in the chin. He also stumbled back into the brick wall.

Connor and Dawn moved in for the kill. But the two vampires they were attacking pulled out metal baseball bats. They prudently backed up a few steps. Then they took a look behind them. As Connor and Dawn attacked two of the vampires, the other two maneuvered to their rear. Now these two also brandished metal bats.

Connor and Dawn were surrounded. The vampires had lured Connor and Dawn into the perfect ambush. So much for Connor's belief that demons weren't tricky or deceitful.

Two of the vampires moved in on Connor. He was quickly struck in the knee, the back, and the skull, and he fell to the ground. The other two went after Dawn. One of them struck her in the ribs. The other one swung for the side of her head. Dawn tried to blocked the blow with her arms, and the bat hit her in the left forearm. She was then hit in the lower back and in the front of the neck at her Adam's apple. She also fell.

On the ground, Connor grabbed one the bats as it swung towards him. The vampire held on to the handle. Connor was able to fling the bat to the side. The vampire who held the bat was thrown into the brick wall. Another vampire swung for Connor, but he rolled out of the way.

Connor stood up. The vampire who had missed Connor when he was on the ground swung for his head. Connor ducked. Then he kicked one of the vampires who was attacking Dawn. After getting kicked, this vampire stumbled backwards and fell over several metal trash cans. Connor grabbed Dawn by the hand, pulling her off the ground. Both of them ran out of the alley.

Once out of the alley, they turned left and ran for two blocks. Then Connor grabbed Dawn's hand and turned right, onto a residential side street. With Connor in the lead, they ran for 200 feet, until they were in the middle of the street.

The street was lined with two-story brick houses. Each of the houses was 20 feet wide and situated on a lot 25 feet in width. On one side of each house was an eight foot driveway, which it shared with the neighboring house. On the other side of each house was a two-foot wide alley, which it shared with its other neighbor. Connor ducked into one of these alleys. Dawn followed, unsure of what Connor was up to.

This narrow alley reminded Connor of a trick he learned climbing rocks in Quor-toth. He put his feet against one wall, and his hands and back against the other, and climbed up between the walls. Dawn did the same.

Soon both of them were 20 feet off the ground, facing each other, Connor's feet next the Dawn's head and Dawn's feet next the Connor's head. Dawn was about to ask Connor what they were supposed to do now. Connor put his right index and middle fingers over her lips. He didn't want her to give away their hiding spot.

Connor reached his right hand into Dawn's right pants pocket. She thought this was an inappropriate time for him to want to fool around. But he was pulling out the stake she had in that pocket. Connor then reached his left hand into his own left pants pocket to pull out a second stake.

Dawn realized what Connor was up to. The vampires had ambushed them. Now they would return the favor. Dawn reached her left hand into her left pocket to pull her other stake. But Dawn needed another stake. After all, there were four vampires. So she followed Connor's lead. Dawn reached her right hand into Connor's right pants pocket. Before pulling out the stake, Dawn's hand lingered for a second or two longer than necessary. Connor bit his lip to keep from making any noise.

The vampires ran up and down the street. One of the them heard breathing between two of the houses. The four vampires moved into the alley, baseball bats brandished, ready to finish off their victims. That is, if they could find their victims.

When the four vampires were directly underneath them, Connor and Dawn jumped down, a stake in each hand. The vampires were dust before they knew what hit them.

Connor dropped his two stakes and leaned against the wall of one of the houses. He breathed a sigh of relief, then smiled and laughed a little. "I've been waiting for a chance to do that," he told Dawn.

"Know what I've been waiting for?," Dawn asked Connor. She kissed Connor and threw her arms around him. This was also something Connor had been waiting for. After all, patrolling can be a bore if all you do is stake vampires.

About a minute later, Connor discovered the downside to vampire hearing – you can't shut it off. He could hear the people inside the house his back was up against. On the second floor, a man and a woman were arguing.

"Your secretary! Your secretary!"

"Baby I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's a little too late for denials. The late nights. The weekends. The hang-ups when I pick up the phone. And the health club. I mean, come on! Since when did you want to lift anything heavier than a stapler?"

"Baby, please. I can explain. I love you."

"No need to explain. I got it all figured out. After her, and Molly, and Tanya"

"Oh, come on! That's not fair. That was years ago. I told you about them. That's in my past."

"No it's not. You can change your job, but you can't change your ways. You've never loved me. I was just the one who was dumb enough to stick around." The woman ran down the stairs into the front foyer. The man followed.

Hearing this argument was putting Connor out of the mood. So he leaned forward. Dawn leaned back into the wall behind her. She was pleased. Dawn like it when Connor showed a little eagerness. She didn't need to be the aggressor every time.

But getting his back off the wall did not prevent Connor from hearing the argument. As the man reached the bottom of the stairs, the woman threw his coat at him.

"Get out!"

"What!"

"Get out."

"But this is my house! I paid for it."

"Community Property, baby. It's as much mine as yours."

"Community Property? Oh no, please don't tell me. No, please"

"Consider yourself lucky. In another state I'd take you for everything you had."

Now the man got angry. "What's mine is yours? Then what's yours is mine. Okay then." He walked into the dining room. "Then the porcelain is mine," he said, throwing her vase into the wall. "And the wedgwood is mine," he said, throwing her plate into the wall. Both of course shattered into pieces.

He walked into the living room. Opened up his desk drawer, pulled out a necklace, and put it in his coat pocket. "Take anything you want. Take it all. I don't care. Cause you can't take me," he said as he went to the door.

"Who in their right mind would want to take you?," she said. "You're a monster. Go to hell!" He opened the door, walked through it, slammed it behind him, and left.

Connor pulled away from Dawn. "What's wrong?," she asked.

"We shouldn't be doing this. Well, not right here."

Dawn looked to her right and noticed they were 50 feet from the street. "Yeah, I guess we are trespassing or something."

"It's not that. I just, I can hear through the walls. I can hear the people inside. It's kind of distracting."

"Oh, right. I forgot. Your powers."

Dawn walked out of the alley. Connor followed. "Guess it would be better if we were in a place more, secluded," Dawn said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Steven. That trick you pulled, it was great. It was like, Spiderman or something."

"Our trick. You were up there with me. Couldn't have done it without you."

"Well, when I'm with you, I think I can do anything." Then Dawn looked at her watch. "Anything except be home late. Steven, it's past 11. If I'm not home soon, Buffy will suspect something. Remember, she thinks I'm over at Janice's."

"It's that late! We do gotta go. Wouldn't want to ruin this little arrangement of ours, now would we?," Connor replied.

Connor and Dawn were about to turn and go their separate ways. Then they turned back and faced each other. Connor grabbed Dawn's waist, Dawn grabbed Connor's shirt, and they kissed. Dawn backpedalled away, but Connor hung on for about 15 feet. Then their lips parted, they let go of one another, and Dawn turned around and ran home. Connor watched her for a few seconds, then turned around and headed home himself.

Xander was over at Buffy's hanging out with her. "Where's Dawn?," he asked.

"At Janice's. Studying. Where's Steven?"

"He went over to Clem's. Clem has a lot of that grape soda Steven really likes. They're supposed to be watching an A-Team marathon."

"Wait a sec. When I was patrolling the graveyard tonight, I saw Clem. He wasn't with Steven."

Xander and Buffy looked at each other and quickly realized what was going on.

"I don't believe it! Are we that gullible? The oldest trick in the book," Xander said.

"Seems it was only yesterday we were using that to fool our parents," Buffy reflected. "We really should have known better. I can't believe I didn't see it coming."

Xander stood up and moved to the door. "I guess it was because Steven's never lied to me before. He's always such a straight shooter. I'm going home, and when he comes home, we're gonna have a little talk. Omigod! Did I just say that? Are we turning into our parents?"

"We're not. We can't be," Buffy responded. "We're not our parents. We're just doing what's best for them. They have no one else to look out for them."

Xander quickly left before either of them could become any more terrifyingly parental.

A little while later Dawn came through the front door. Buffy was standing in the hall next to the stairs. "Where have you been, young lady?"

"You know where I've been. At Janice's. Studying."

Buffy grabbed Dawn's backpack and opened it. Inside were a couple crosses, a couple stakes, a knife, and a small mace. Buffy pulled out the mace. "What exactly was it you were studying?"

"Well, you know, we have that medieval unit in world history class, so we were, well, going over"

"Give it up Dawn. Tell me the truth."

"Fine. I wasn't studying with Janice. I was out patrolling."

She had yet to reveal the whole truth. So Buffy nudged Dawn along. "You were fighting vampires all alone? You know how dangerous that can be. Why would you take such a risk? If you wanted to go patrolling, you could have always asked to go with me."

"But you don't like it. You said when other people go patrolling with you they get in your way, cramp your style. Anyway, I wasn't alone."

Dawn had given herself away, and she knew it. "And who was it you were patrolling with. Janice? Brandon? Xander? Spike?"

"Yeah. That's the one. Spike. I was with him. I just didn't want to tell you because I know you don't want me hanging around him."

Buffy knew this was false. "Okay then. I'll just go over to Spike's and ask him myself." She walked out the door. Then she realized this charade was absurd. She walked back inside. "Oh, please. You don't think I know who you were with? How stupid do you think I am.? I know. I just want to hear you say it."

"Fine. You got me. I was with Steven. I was killing vampires with Steven. I was saving lives with Steven. Now what's wrong with that?"

"You're the one who knew it was wrong," Buffy responded. "Why else would you lie about it?"

"Because I didn't want to worry you. You don't like it when I patrol without you. You think you need to protect me. Poor little helpless Dawny, always needing someone to save her.' That's what you think of me, isn't it?"

"Dawn, you know that's not what I think of you. And trying to change the subject. The issue here is that you snuck out of the house to go slaying. With a boy. On a school night."

"Nothing you haven't done," Dawn shot back. Then she ran up the stairs and into her room. She found Buffy's self-righteous condemnation to be ridiculous, considering what Buffy did when she was Dawn's age.

Buffy realized this and let Dawn go. She knew that if she continued the lecture Dawn would bring up Angel. And the fact that Buffy's high school sweetheart was the father of Dawn's high school sweetheart would just make that conversation entirely too uncomfortable for the both of them.

Connor was sitting at the kitchen table, eating cold pizza. Xander entered the room. "So, Steven, which A-Team episode did you watch?"

"Uh, it was the one where Mr. T's afraid of flying, so Murdoch and Face put some sleeping pills in his sandwich."

Smart kid, Xander thought. That was every A-Team episode. So Xander called his bluff. "Oh, you mean the one where they flew to Peru to kill those Andean vampires?"

"Yeah. That's the one."

"Nice try, Steven. They didn't have vampires on The A-Team.' So, really, where were you tonight?"

"I was hunting vampires. You know, killing the evil ones and saving the lives of innocent humans. What's wrong with that?"

Xander walked up to Connor, put his right hand on top of Connor's head, and tilted the head leftward to expose the entire right side of Connor's neck. On that part of Connor's neck was a rather large hickey.

"Was it a vampire who gave you that?," Xander asked, then let go. Connor looked bashful. Xander walked out of the room. He knew who gave Connor that, and he really didn't want to hear about it. What Dawn and Connor did together was the last thing Xander wanted to hear about. It was just icky and disturbing. After all, this was Dawn. Xander would sooner cut off his own eyelids than be forced to imagine little Dawny in any situation which was remotely sexual.

Willow and Buffy were eating breakfast when they heard the door open and someone walk in. Buffy worried it was Spike, desperate for a second chance. Willow worried it was Xander, desperate to help bring "closure" to her post-Tara trauma. They were both wrong.

Anya walked into the kitchen. "Hey Willow, glad to see you're up. I have more than an hour before the shop opens, so I was wondering if you wanted to go to PJ's for breakfast. You seemed to love the place when we had breakfast there last week."

Buffy was confused. "You two went out to breakfast last week."

"Yes," Anya said. "After we spent the night together."

Buffy spit out the coffee which was in her mouth. "You two spent the night together?!!"

"No," Willow answered. "Xander was also with us."

"The three . . . of you?," a supremely shocked Buffy managed to say. "You three?"

"I know, you didn't think we had it in us," Anya answered. "It was the first time for all of us. But once we got past the fear, it was a blast."

"You . . . three?," Buffy said again. "Last week? And Xander hasn't said anything? That's not the sort of thing he'd keep quiet about."

"Well it's not like he did much," Willow told Buffy. "He just sat there and watched."

Buffy was so shocked all she could do was parrot back what she heard in the form of a question. "He watched? He watched you two?"

"Slay vampires," Anya answered. "What did you think we were talking about?"

Buffy didn't want to answer that. She wanted to forget that particular thought forthwith and forevermore. "Oh, I knew. I just was a bit surprised. I didn't think you were the types to go out and do that on your own."

Willow explained. "It was the night you guys killed the Sulla and the Camillus, no thanks to us. It would have been a bummer to go home empty-handed. So Xander drove us around in his truck, and we stood in the back taking out any vamps who crossed our path."

"It was great! We got 16!," Anya exclaimed.

"I thought it was 14?," Willow asked her.

"No it was 16. Remember, we each got eight."

"Yes," Willow told Anya, "But there were two which you shot with your fire arrows and I staked. So we each did six solo, two combined. That's 14."

"Yeah, you're right," Anya told Willow. Then she turned to Buffy. "But fourteen's a good total for one night, isn't it?"

Buffy often failed to get 14 in a single night. But she didn't want to allow Willow and Anya to believe they could outslay the Slayer. "It's good. For beginners," she told them condescendingly.

Willow continued with the story. "So after a few hours Xander started complaining that he had work in the morning, and had to go to sleep. So he split in the truck, and we took our weapons and continued on foot."

Anya jumped in. "We walked around until sunrise, trying to find more vampires, picking off a couple here and there. Then, it's morning, and we're hungry. But I tell Willow we should head home, since nothing's open this early in this town."

Willow finished. "But I tell Anya that I thought that PJ's Pancake House would be open. It's a breakfast place, and this was breakfasttime."

"And what a wonderful breakfast place it is!," Anya interjected. "I mean, the banana pancakes, and then the strawberry pancakes. I never knew those flat round floppy pieces of bread could taste so delicious!"

"Yeah, PJ's is great," Willow concurred. "But it's a sit-down place, so the service takes a little while. And Anya, the thing is, I have a class in 30 minutes. So there's just not time for me to go with you today."

"That's fine," Anya told her. "And I guess it wouldn't be as special if it wasn't a post-slaying feast."

"Is that an invitation?," Willow asked Anya.

"Oh, right," Anya answered. "Cause a post-slaying feast would be post, the slaying. Yeah, sure. It would be great to do it again. If you want to."

Willow did want to. "We are a great team, and it would be bad if we retired right after opening night."

"I'll see when my schedule's free," Anya told Willow before leaving.

Buffy thought Willow was being obscenely cavalier about the risks of her new social activity. "Willow, I'm glad you and Anya are capable of defending yourselves. But, and don't take this as an insult, I wouldn't press you luck. Quit while you're ahead."

"Don't take that as an insult? Is there another way I can take that?," Willow asked Buffy.

"Take it as a voice of reason," Buffy responded. "Living in this town, living with the Slayer, you face enough threats to your life. I don't know why you'd want to go and actually seek out even more danger. The two of you talked about slaying as if it's like going clubbing. It's not. Trust me. It's not something you do for kicks."

That afternoon, Dawn and Connor and Janice and Brandon were out walking around a pond. Dawn was talking to Janice and – for the first time – Connor was talking to Brandon.

"This thing with you and Steven, is it serious?," Janice asked Dawn.

Well, there's serious, and then there's the unique, trans-dimensional bond between a boy who came from vampires and a girl who came from an energy orb. Dawn had to find a less sensational way to describe their relationship.

"I think it is. It has been for the last month. Since the first time he told me he loved me."

Janice did the math. "Wait. You met this guy two months ago. One month later, he says he loves you? Girl, you move fast."

"I what?," a somewhat confused Dawn asked.

"Oh don't play dumb with me. Gotta say, I can't blame you. If I had been in your shoes I would have jumped his bones too."

Dawn realized Janice was drawing all sorts of faulty conclusions. "You think that's what I meant? I haven't, I mean, we haven't, yet. Have you and Brandon?"

"Well, yeah. What did you expect, we'd take a while to get to know each other better? We've known each other for, like, 12 years."

"Wow. That's great for the both of you. But Janice, why didn't you tell me? I mean, we're supposed to talk about these kinds of things."

"I would have, but, it's Brandon. I figured you wouldn't like to hear about Brandon in that way, to think of him in that sort of context."

"Oh, I see what you mean. Good point. Very considerate of you to spare me the details." Dawn told Janice.

"No need to spare me your details," Janice said to Dawn. "Wait, no, that sounded wrong. Not those details. What I mean is, what's Steven like? I hardly know him. I think I should know more about the guy who's in love with my best friend."

Dawn tried her best to describe Steven to someone who knew nothing about who or what he really was. "He's real nice. Unfathomably nice. And caring. You wouldn't wouldn't believe the way he compliments me. Just on and on about how I'm the only girl he could ever love and how I mean the world to him."

"So he's the wooing sort," Janice commented. "Sounds kind of sweet and old-fashioned."

Dawn continued. "I guess he is kind of old-fashioned. And very innocent. Almost childlike at times. But then he can be intense and passionate, more intense and passionate than anyone I've ever met. He just has this fire inside him."

"Speaking of intense, I heard someone say he beat up the football team? What's up with that?"

"They're exaggerating," Dawn answered. "He really only, kind of beat up the starting lineup. I think he just did it to impress me."

"Oh, just the starting lineup," Janice commented sarcastically to hide her shock. She glanced at Steven, who was about 100 yards away. "Powerful little thing. Size of the fight in the man, I guess. So Steven's one tough little dynamo, like Bruce Lee?"

"Something like that," Dawn drolly told Janice. "Steven's not like other guys (talk about an understatement!). He doesn't talk or think like other boys. The little things – school, sports, parties – mean nothing to him. He only cares about big things. He only feels big emotions. He never said Dawn, I like you' or Dawn, are you free Saturday night?' or Dawn, I think you're pretty,' none of the stuff other boys would say. With Steven it was always Dawn, you look luminous,' Dawn, you make life worth living,' Dawn, I love you.' He told me he loved me before I even kissed him for the first time."

Janice took a few seconds to absorb this. "Wow, he is old-fashioned. And obsessed. I mean, take away that gorgeous face and he's stalker material."

Of course Dawn had thought all of this after she first met Steven. But it sounded almost offensive coming from someone else. So she defused the matter with a dig at Janice's guy. "Steven couldn't have been my stalker. That job was already filled by Brandon."

Janice got the joke. She knew how Dawn-obsessed Brandon was before his miraculous metamorphosis. (At this time Janice did not know about Xander's role in all this.) Janice put a positive spin on Steven's intensity. "What I meant to say was, it's great to love someone who loves you so much and isn't afraid to tell you how he feels. It's kind of like a fairy tale. You do love Steven, right?"

"Of course. He's my one and only. Just like Brandon's your one and only."

Brandon was trying to get a conversation going with Connor. "Steven, I think you should know that Dawn is a very good friend of mine, and I care for her deeply."

"Then you must know how special she is," Connor told Brandon. "How her beauty is unmatched, her heart more caring, her soul deeper and more profound than any other on God's earth."

Brandon was overwhelmed. At the height of his passion for Dawn, even he had never portrayed her in these terms. "I take it that means you care for her too," was Brandon's underwhelming response. "I'm glad. And I'm glad you know how special she is."

"There is none other like her," Connor said. He assumed Brandon was referring to the fact that Dawn was the Key. Brandon of course knew nothing of this.

"I'm glad you feel that way Steven," Brandon told Connor. "Cause I would hate to see Dawn get hurt."

"I would sooner chop off my own hands than allow myself to hurt Dawn," Connor told Brandon.

Brandon was taken aback by Connor's declaration. "Well, that's nice to know. Disgusting, but nice. You seem to be a good guy, Steven. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm 16."

"Huh? You seemed older than that to me. I thought you were at least 20. To be honest, when we met I assumed you were some college guy trying to take advantage of Dawn. That's why I wasn't that nice to you."

"Actually, I'm a little younger than Dawn," Connor told Brandon. "I think her birthdate is before mine." Of course he was telling the truth. Dawn was "born" more than two years before Connor was born.

"I have to admit, I find that a little comforting," Brandon said. "I feared you were experienced, been around the block, so to speak."

Connor looked confused. He didn't get Brandon's references. Brandon realized what this meant. "Hold on. You're a virgin?"

Connor had not thought of it like that before. But now that he did, he realized he was. To be fair, he had only discovered girls eight months ago. "Yes," he told Brandon. "Aren't you?"

Brandon burst out laughing. At first he was laughing at Connor's suggestion. Then he was laughing at the fact that out of the two of them Connor was the inexperienced one. He never figured Connor for inexperienced. "Well, I guess some of us are just late bloomers. For me, it was last year at Becky DiPrima's party. I was a little buzzed and I went up to Cindy Samuels and – as a joke, of course – asked her if she wanted to go in the closet with me. To my everlasting surprise, she said sure. So we went. Best five minutes of my life. Until, of course, Janice."

"Five minutes?," Connor asked Brandon. It just seemed like so little time to him.

Willow was hanging out at the coffee shop with Zooey. There was so little Willow actually knew about her new friend. So Zooey filled her in.

"I wasn't crazy about college. Basically, it was a way to get away from my parents, strike out on my own, finally cut the umbilical cord. Course, I had to pay my way through. 40 hours a week plus classes was a real grind. Spring of sophomore year I decided it just wasn't worth it and up and left.

"Meanwhile the rents had moved up to Eureka, putting a good 600 miles between us. I headed home, played around in a few bands, did the whole bohemian thing. Way I saw it, I could be young and lazy and broke and stressed-out at college, or I could drop out and be young and lazy and broke and happy."

"So what to your parents make of all this?," Willow asked. "I mean, my mother could care less about most of the stuff I do. But if I dropped out of college she'd go crazy."

"Actually the rents were cool about it all. They're still hippies at heart, which can get real annoying at times, but it means they let me get away with just about anything – except voting Republican. Then they'd go psycho. But they think I should do my own thing and find myself,' whatever that means. How can you lose yourself to begin with?"

Zooey looked at her watch. "Uh oh, gotta go. Sound check's in five." Zooey walked to the door. "You going tonight?"

"Sorry, I can't," Willow told Zooey. "I got a biology lab I have to go to."

They were both on the sidewalk. "Bummer," Zooey said. "Later, then."

The goodbye was awkward, because of the very awkwardness of their relationship, which was based upon mutual attraction and a mutual understanding that neither person should act on the attraction.

They looked at each other nervously. Zooey finally reached out her right hand and if she was going to shake Willow's hand. Then, at the last moment, without meaning to, Zooey's hand shot upward and touched Willow's left cheek. Willow put her left hand on Zooey's right hand, and held it there. Zooey got nervous and quickly pulled her hand away and left. Willow stood there, with her left hand still on her cheek, trying to figure out what had just happened.

At the same time Spike was leaving the Magic Shop for the sound check. Then he remembered something he wanted to tell Anya. "Hey Anya, I think I should tell you that Sterling, my drummer, has a thing for you."

"The drummer?," Anya asked, trying to remember what he looked like.

"Yeah. Says he thinks you're really interesting. And he doesn't know the half of it!" Spike then left.

A few seconds later Connor and Dawn entered. Anya was thinking about what Spike had just told her. She thought it would be nice to play the field. Her experience with men had been rather limited. So she decided to head on over to the Bronze while the band was there for the sound check to catch a look at her new prospect.

"Steven, I'm going to head out for a minute. Can you?"

"I know, watch the money."

"You learn quick, kid." Then Anya left.

Connor and Dawn went into the training room. Connor had told Dawn he wanted to show her a few new moves she could use against vampires.

"First thing, of course, you want to keep your attacker in front of you, so you can block their attack. Like this." Connor and Dawn did a little sparring. Connor, playing the attacker, led with a right hook, which Dawn easily blocked. Then he threw a left hook, which she ducked under. Then he did a high right kick. She ducked, swept Connor's left leg, knocking him down.

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't have a problem with that. But vampires, they're big dumb beasts. They like to overpower people. So what do you do if they try this?" Connor grabbed Dawn's arms and pushed her back into the wall. Dawn thought that since this was Connor, force was good. But she figured he was serious, focused on fighting, not foreplay.

"Well, uh, I guess I'd be in trouble," Dawn replied.

Connor let go. "Exactly. You're great with the kicking and punching and all, but if they grapple with you all that stuff's useless. Then you need to know how to throw them, take them down, regain the upper hand."

"How do you suppose I'd toss around a big heavy vampire?"

"It's quite simple. Just leverage. Using their bulk against them. Now, you be the vampire. Grab me, like I did to you." Dawn did this. "Now, I don't try to push you away. I just pivot backwards, and toss you. Here, you try."

"You want me to toss you?"

"It's real easy. Just give it a try. I'll grab you. You pull my weight forwards, turn back, toss me over your shoulder. Relax, it's easy."

Connor grabbed Dawn as he had before. She did what he showed her. Connor was then on his back. His arms were above his head, and Dawn's hands held his wrists down. She was on top of him.

"So how to you escape from this hold?," Dawn asked Connor.

"I don't," he said, smiling.

Dawn realized what Connor was doing. Clever boy, she thought. Setting this whole thing up. Using training as foreplay. Clever boy indeed. She kissed him.

Anya was outside of the Bronze when she had second thoughts. Crashing a sound check might make her look a tad desperate. So she didn't go in, and she headed back to her store.

Connor heard her enter. "Anya's back," He told Dawn. The two of them got off the floor and tried to make themselves presentable, make it look like nothing had happened. They went out to greet Anya.

"Hi Anya. That was quick," Dawn said.

"Anything happen while I was gone?," Anya asked.

"No, of course not. What makes you think anything happened,?" Dawn asked defensively.

"What Dawn means is no one came in here while you were gone," Connor added.

"Good," Anya said. Then she looked at Connor. "Steven, your shirt's inside out. I didn't notice that earlier."

"Oh, yeah, neither did I. Thanks. All those years of clothes without tags inside, I'm still getting used to these kinds of clothes."

Connor and Dawn quickly walked out of the store. Connor said to Dawn "It's almost four. Wanna go to the theater?"

"But no good movies are playing there right now," Dawn answered.

"Who said I wanted to watch a movie?," Connor added. Dawn smiled. She liked the way Connor was thinking.

After the sound check Spike went home to relax for a few hours before the show. Willow needed someone to talk to about Zooey, so she went to Spike's place. After all, he knew them both. Spike also needed someone to talk to about Buffy. And after all, Willow knew them both. Willow sat on the couch. Spike was lying on his back, his head in Willow's lap. She was casually running her fingers through his hair. This was because Willow saw Spike in a completely non-sexual manner. So this kind of stuff was meaningless to her, because it was with Spike.

"Right now, with Buffy, we're in some sort of holding pattern. It's all up in the air. At least she no longer hates me."

"After killing the Camillus with you, she seemed real impressed. Said you were very brave."

Spike's eyes lit up. "She said I was brave?"

"I think her exact words were he was very brave, and didn't get scared when the demon attacked him, so he made a really good decoy.'"

Spike was less happy. "A decoy. So that's all she thinks I am."

"I believe she also said you were very clever. Or crafty. One of the two."

"Crafty. Now that's a compliment."

Willow tried to comfort Spike. "It's a matter of seeing the glass as half-empty or half full. Remember, a month ago the glass was completely empty. Buffy didn't even want to hear you name mentioned. So there's been progress. You gotta give her time. She's been through a lot with you. She has plenty of reasons not to trust you. So it will take her a while to realize that you're a good man."

Spike sat up and looked at Willow. "Good? You think I'm good?"

"That's what I've thought ever since you came back. You've been kind and sweet and vulnerable."

"Good, kind, sweet, vulnerable? What, have I turned into a pansy or something? I mean, you make me sound like some pathetic loser. You don't think I'm tough anymore?"

"There's really no pleasing you today, now is there Spike? Every time I say something good, you read it the wrong way. Not like you're the only one who's having trouble with compliments. Well, I mean, that's why I came here. Me and Zooey are doing great. Too great."

Willow then lied back in Spike's lap. Just as Willow didn't see Spike in a sexual way, Spike didn't see Willow in that way either. They found each other attractive, but never even gave a thought to acting upon it. Spike ran his finger through Willow's hair.

"Zooey is nuts about you, Will. Head over heels. To her you're the tops."

"That's the problem. I like being with her. She's a great person. But I don't want what she wants. Well, part of me does. But most of me knows it's wrong. I'm not ready to love another woman."

Spike realized what Willow's dilemma was. "Oh yes, Tara. She was the one. Your only one. So you figure there can never be another."

"Well, there can't. Nobody can replace Tara."

"Of course. But that doesn't mean you must consign yourself to a lifetime of loneliness. You think Tara was the sort of bird who, if anything happened to her, she'd want you to get yourself to a nunnery?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I guess she'd want me to be happy. Perhaps she'd understand if I eventually found someone else. But right now, it's too soon."

Spike now perceived two relevant but separate issues. "I can't tell you when it will no longer be too soon. That's for you to figure out. But I can tell you this – Zooey is not Tara. They're different people. One is not a replacement for the other. I'm just saying, hypothetically, if you did come to love Zooey, it wouldn't mean you don't still love Tara. It doesn't work like that.

"My point is, you'll know when you're ready. You'll feel it. If you don't, be honest and don't give Zooey false hopes. But if you do feel it, it's wrong to pretend you don't because you believe that being with Zooey will cheapen what you had with Tara. It won't. You deny your feelings and you're living a lie. And I don't think Tara would want you living a lie."

Xander and Connor had just finished dinner. Connor was on the couch watching television. Xander was in the kitchen, getting a bottle of beer from the fridge.

Connor wanted to talk. "Xander, can I ask you a question about sex?" At that moment, Xander was twisting off the cap. The question rattled him and when he opened the bottle foam shot up out the top.

"Okay. What's the question?"

"Well, I was just wondering, when is it normal to start."

This was not a conversation Xander ever wanted to have. It wasn't so much that Connor was talking about sex. It was that he was talking about sex with Dawn. From Xander's point of view, Connor was asking him when would be the right time to deflower Buffy's kid sister.

"To start what?," Xander said, playing dumb.

"You know. When was your first time?"

"Well, let's see. I was seventeen when I had that brief fling with the Slayer. No, not Buffy. Another Slayer, named Faith. Rather psychotic. She's in prison now. I'm not exactly nostalgic about the whole thing. See, it's good to wait. To wait for the right person."

"I agree with you Xander." At first Xander felt good about this. Then Connor made him feel otherwise. "Obviously it's wrong if you don't love the person. If they're not the one for you. But if you do find that one person you want to be with forever, then it's only proper to become one with them, to become of one flesh."

Xander found the phrase "one flesh" to be deeply nauseating, practically pornographic. He wondered where Connor picked up such smut. Actually, it's from the Bible.

Xander tried his best to preach abstinence. "Well, yes, I suppose that could be right. But, then again, if you do find that one person, aren't you supposed to wait until marriage? You know, that thing couples don't do when they're still in high school."

"So you know people who've done that? I mean, all your friends, none of them are married. Any of them waiting?"

Ouch. Connor had played the trump card. All Xander could do was use diversionary and delaying tactics. "Me and my friends are not good role models when it comes to relationships. We're kind of examples of what not to do. My entire dating history is one long cautionary tale. Anyway, I was thinking the two of us could do something tonight. Have you ever been bowling?"

"What's bowling?"

"It's a game. You knock down pins with a ball. It's a good way to take your mind off, problems. Get rid of, distractions. You should come with me and try it. Tonight."

First, Xander made a call to Buffy. "Buff, we have a problem. Steven just tried to have a talk with me – about sex. You know, the when is it the right time for your first time?' talk."

"You mean, the right time for, Steven and Dawn?"

"That was the insanely disturbing aspect of the whole thing. Of course I tried to convince him the right time was, well, in the infinitely distant future. But he's observant enough to know that me, and well, everyone else he knows doesn't exactly practice what I was preaching, so to speak. So I figure he wasn't asking for advice. He was making an announcement about his intentions. Like he was saying Xander, guess what I'm gonna be doing?'"

"Or who he'll be doing," Buffy said with obvious worry. "They have been getting hot and heavy, and she's constantly going on about how much they love each other. Really, I should have seen this coming."

"Especially after last night," Xander pointed out. "Sneaking out to go patrolling. You know what patrolling can lead to."

Buffy didn't need to be reminded about that. "I think I developed too much trust in Steven. I saw him as a fighter, a champion. But whatever else he is or may be, Steven's a teenage boy. And I don't have to tell you they're only after one thing."

"Don't remind me, please don't remind me," Xander told Buffy. "You don't how frightening it is to be on the other side of that equation. Just wanted to give you a heads-up, keep you appraised."

"Well, thanks for the warning. I'll make sure that when Dawn goes patrolling it's with me. I've been meaning to do spend more time with Dawn, bond with her. This just gives me all the more reason to do so."

This conversation made it apparent that neither Xander nor Buffy correctly understood the dynamics of the Connor-Dawn relationship. They were both operating on stereotypes. They saw an aggressive young man trying to take advantage of a passive and innocent young woman. But Dawn was clearly the dominant one in the relationship. And if either if them could be called innocent, it would have to be Steven. Only Spike recognized the true dynamics of Connor and Dawn's relationship.

Xander told Connor they would go bowling after he ran a quick errand. He drove over to the Magic Shop. Anya was surprised to see Xander.

"I'm looking for something in a de-lusting spell," Xander told her. When Xander tries to act protective, he usually overreacts and tries to do something foolish.

"So who is it you don't want to be lusting after?," Anya asked.

"It's not for me. It's for Steven. His feelings for Dawn are a bit too, intense. Not a complete de-lusting spell, mind you. Just something to cool him off a bit. So he's a little less, well, in heat."

"Oooh, I get it," Anya declared. "You're protecting Dawn's virginity. Just like a father would. Of course, you're also kind of like a father to Steven. Which for you makes the thought of the two of them fornicating even more disturbing, now, doesn't it?"

"Enough with the head shrinking Anya. And, father? That's just sick! On so many levels!"

"Sorry about that. I was just having a little fun distilling your dastardly dilemma to its purist essence. I'm not selling you anything. Mixing magic and hormones is like tap dancing on a floor soaked with nitroglycerine. Even by your standards, this is an incredibly stupid idea. On so many levels, I'm not even going to begin to enumerate them. When you walk out that door, which you are going to do in about five seconds, you'll realize what a mistake you were trying to make."

Xander walked out onto the sidewalk. And he realized something totally different. There was a green demon with little red horns in a yellow suit standing right next to him.

"Excuse me kind sir, but could you be polite enough to tell me where the Bronze is?," the demon asked Xander.

"Aaaahhhh!!!" was Xander's only response. He had learned that demons were almost always trouble. Xander ran away. The very polite demon ran after him.

"Please, sir. Please calm down. I just want directions. Just tell me where the Bronze is and I'll leave you alone." Finally, the demon caught Xander, turned him around, looked him in the eyes, and held Xander by the shoulders so he could not run away.

"Yes, I know, I'm a demon. But honestly, do I look dangerous? Do I look like I could kill you? Where are my giant teeth? My razor sharp claws? My ferociously muscular body? I don't have them. Relax. I don't want to hurt you. I just want directions. So, if you could, please tell me where a nightclub called the Bronze is."

Xander slowly stopped hyperventilating. Deadly demons didn't usually talk. And almost never in complete paragraphs. Besides, if he told the demon what it wanted to know, it would probably leave him alone.

"Go down this road one block to the light. Make a left. Go for two blocks. Make another left. Go one block, make a right. The Bronze will be on your left."

"There. Now was that so bad.? Thank you very much." With that, the demon went back to his car and followed Xander's directions to the Bronze. Xander's breathing returned to normal and he stopped sweating. He went back to his car, drove home, then drove Connor to the bowling alley.

"You think a guy who lives on the Hellmouth wouldn't almost wet his pants at the sight of little old me," The demon said as he started his car. The demon in question owned a club in Las Vegas called Caritas. He had heard great things about the band which was performing tonight at the Bronze. He had been expanding beyond kareoke and was booking more professional acts. He found that in Vegas, in order to bring in the bodies, you needed to put on a good show.

As he drove to the Bronze, he listened on his car stereo to Sam and Dave's "Hold On, I'm Coming," singing along to the buoyant horn riff (do-do-do do–do-do–do, do-do-do do–do-do–do). He found a parking spot near the club and entered.

As he entered, Spike was singing "Dark End Of The Street:"

"at the dark end of the street

that's where we'll always meet

hiding in shadows where we don't belong

living in darkness to hide our wrong."

The demon was familiar with this oft-covered soul classic. He really liked the song, and he thought Spike's version was oddly compelling. He soon found out how odd, and how compelling. As Spike sang he heard his thoughts. He heard far more than he bargained for. He needed a stiff drink.

"Bartender, a double Manhattan. Make that two double Manhattans."

The bartender stared in disbelief at the creature talking to him. The demon realized what was the issue. "Oh, this," he said, pointing to his green face and red horns. "It's makeup. I'm in a production of Rocky Horror' later tonight," he explained, then singing the line Let's do the time warp again' for effect. The bartender accepted the explanation, and gave him the drinks.

"There weren't any Anagogic demons in Rocky Horror,'" a man ten feet down the bar said to the demon.

The demon looked stunned. "That's what you are, right? You read people's thoughts when they sing." The demon was still stunned and silent. "I know you can talk. Come on fella. You got a name? Mine's Marcus."

"Lorne. That's my name. Nice to meet you Marcus."

Marcus explained. "Nice to meet you Lorne. Didn't mean to scare you like that. I'm kind of familiar with your kind. The wives of singers hire Anagogic demons to listen to their husbands and see if they're unfaithful, find out who they're sleeping with. Frank Sinatra fed and clothed three generations of your kind. Gotta admit, not a bad gig, getting paid to listen to Ol' Blue Eyes."

"Are you a musician?," Lorne asked.

"I was. After I got married, I got a day job as an insurance salesman. Had to do the settling down thing. But before that, when I still had my freedom, I was a piano player. Most of my paying gigs were cabaret. But at heart I'm a jazzman. Art Tatum. Thelonious Monk."

"Wasn't Monk part Shuvash demon?," Lorne wondered.

"That's an urban legend," Marcus explained. "It was thought that was the only way he could play in all those amazing harmonics. But he was all human."

"All too human," Lorne added, referring to Monk's lifelong battle with mental illness.

"Aren't we all," Marcus added ruefully. "So Lorne, what business are you in? Music or mindreading?"

"Mostly music. I'm a lounge singer. Actually, I'm a lounge singer who owns his own lounge. Caritas, in Las Vegas. I do some mind-reading, but only if the people singing want me to. Here's my card. If you're ever out on the Strip, please do drop by. I can always use a good piano player."

Lorne finished his two drinks. At the back of the dance floor, he spotted one of his own kind. She didn't look it, but Lorne could tell. He went up to her, touched her shoulder, and said "reveal."

Anya realized she had on her demon face. She was mighty embarrassed. Someone might see. Sterling might see. And by now Anya had looked at him long enough to know he was really cute.

Anya turned to face Lorne. "I wish you'd stop that," she said in her low demon voice, making her pleadings sound quite funny.

"I'm not the one who has the power to grant wishes," Lorne joked.

"It's my job to hurt men. You wanna be next?," Anya threatened.

"You think I just fell off the turnip truck, sugar? You can't grant your own wishes. You think you scare me?"

"I wasn't talking about those powers. I was talking about punching you in the mouth so hard my hand will go down your throat and rip out your larynx. Scared now?"

Actually, Lorne was. The vengeance demon sounded serious. Lorne touched Anya again. "Conceal," he said, and she returned to human form.

Anya was still pissed. "What's your problem? Is that how you pick up women?," she angrily asked Lorne.

He laughed. "You thought I was hitting on you? Hitting on a Vengeance Demon? That's funny. Who would be stupid enough to want to date a Vengeance Demon? What, you think I want to have my life ruined? I was just glad to see another demon in the place. Wanted to say hi."

"I'm not a demon," Anya told Lorne.

"Oh, of course. You vengeance demons are half-breeds. And I bet now you're at that point where you're not sure which team you want to play for. At least you have a choice. I can't change my face. But I understand what you're going through. Sorry to pull that trick. Wasn't the nicest way of introducing myself. Name's Lorne. What's yours?"

"Anya."

"Anyaka!!?, a stunned Lorne asked.

"That's what they used to call me."

"The . . . Anyaka? I don't believe it! I'm talking to Anyaka! The defender of scorned women everywhere. You're a living legend! You have to be the most famous person I ever met, and believe me, I've known some legends in my time."

This pleased Anya. "A legend. I never saw it that way. Cool. I'm like, famous. A celebrity."

"You're more than that. What celebrity actually helps their fans when they're in need? If a woman loses her husband, is Julia Roberts going to show up and grant her wish?"

"Actually, it would probably be Julia Roberts who stole the woman's husband in the first place," Anya joked.

"You're catty. I like that. Nice to have met you. And Anya, the drummer's a nice catch."

Lorne began to walk away. Anya said "how'd you know?"

Lorne turned around "I'm a demon. I have powers of my own."

Lorne went off to a dark corner where he wouldn't attract too much attention and listened some more to Spike. Just when Lorne thought he had left Angel's world, he found himself pulled back in. In addition, he learned that Connor was in town. This scared Lorne. He did not want to cross paths with that kid again.

Xander and Connor were all ready to bowl. Connor began his first frame. He approached the lane and threw the bowling ball overhand at the pins, like he was throwing a baseball. The pins were more than knocked down. They were practically shattered. The noise of the ball crashing into the pins and then crashing into the floor startled everyone in the building, who looked in Connor's direction. Xander was very embarrassed.

"Steven, you're supposed to roll the ball underhand." He showed Connor the motion. Connor thought he understood.

Connor lined up for his second frame. He threw the ball underhand, like a pitcher in fast-pitch softball. The ball shot through the pins like a cannon-ball, and crashed into the back of the lane. Everyone looked at Connor once again. Xander worried they were about to get kicked out.

"Steven. You roll the ball. On the ground."

"What's wrong with what I did? I knocked down all the pins. That's what I'm supposed to do, right?"

"Yes, but you're only supposed to use two dimensions," Xander explained. (Perhaps dimensions was the wrong word to use when explaining something to Connor. I could give him the completely wrong idea.) "The ball goes on the ground. It hits the pins, which are on the ground. The ball is not supposed to fly through the air."

"But through the air is so much easier. The point of the game is to get the best score, right? And this is how I'll get the best score." The way he was going, Connor could have "bowled" a 300. That is, if he didn't destroy the lane and the pins trying to do it.

"Now, through the air works. I see that. But you're damaging the floor and the pins. The guy who owns this place, he's not going to like it if you damage and break his stuff. He'll probably ask you to leave. If you throw the ball in the air once more, I'm almost positive he'll kick us both out. So instead, roll the ball like I do, play the game that way, and nobody gets upset."

"I don't want to break anything. So I'll give it a try. I still think my way's better."

For Lorne, listening to Spike's thoughts was like reading a Victor Hugo novel – only much trashier. There were some things Lorne wished he had not learned. But overall, listening to Spike was captivating. And Lorne thought his music wasn't bad either.

When the concert was over, Lorne approached Spike. "Hello Spike. I'm a club owner in Vegas, and I'm interested in booking your band."

Spike looked Lorne over. "You're a Pylean, aren't you?"

Since coming to Sunnydale, Lorne had met three men. Two of them knew what he was. This was unusual. But then again, people who live on a Hellmouth know a thing or two about demons. "Yes I am. My name's Lorne."

Meanwhile, Anya approached Sterling. He was a little over six feet tall, gawky but muscular. He had thick, nearly shoulder-length black hair with blonde streaks.

"Hi, I'm Anya. I'm a friend of Spike's. Actually, I'm his boss."

"Yes. I've seen you there. Great to finally meet you, Anya. My name's Sterling."

"I don't know much about music, but I thought you did very well with the pounding and beating and the smashing."

"That's the good thing about being a drummer. You get paid to beat things."

"But the bad thing is that you're hidden behind all that stuff. Everyone else gets to prance and preen around on stage for everyone to see. You're stuck in the background."

"Anya, you seem to know more about music than you think. Drums aren't for prima donnas. We're the bricklayers of rock music. But without us to keep time, everyone else on stage would be lost. They wouldn't know what to do, or when to do it."

It was ironic that Sterling referred to himself as a "bricklayer" because Spike used to call Xander a "glorified bricklayer." Anya missed the irony, which was just as well. She wanted Sterling to make her forget about Xander.

"So, Sterling, wanna go to my apartment?"

Sterling gasped. Anya's forwardness literally took his breath away. Anya realized there had been a miscommunication.

"Uh, no, I didn't mean it that way. I mean, I'm not asking you to spend the night. Not tonight, after we've only met a few minutes ago."

Sterling tried to cover up his assumption. "Of course. I know that. I wasn't thinking that you wanted to . . . no, I certainly wasn't thinking you were that kind of woman. And I'm certainly not that type of guy."

Anya tried to explain. "What I meant was we should go someplace and talk, get to know each other better, cause you seem to me like a good guy to get to know. I just figured that most of coffee shops and restaurants are closed at this hour."

"You definitely seem like the type of woman I'd like to know better. There's a nice diner about five miles from here. Sometimes I like to go there for a bite to eat after a gig. If you want, we could go there."

Anya smiled. "I'd like that," she told Sterling. They headed out the door.

Meanwhile Spike was getting to know a new demon. "Nice to meet you Lorne. But I thought Pyleans were a race of warriors. No offense, but you don't look like much of a fighter."

"I'm more of a lover than a fighter. Actually, I'm neither. I'm a singer, like yourself. I'm kind of the black sheep of my clan. The thing is, my people don't have music. Growing up, I always knew something was missing. So as soon as I could I got outta there and came here. When I saw James Brown at the Apollo in 1972, I knew I had found my new home. I mean this planet, not Harlem. I love Harlem. I worship the Apollo. But I was a bit nervous, being the only demon in the theater."

"You were nervous? I was at that show. You thought you were nervous? I was the only white guy!" Then Spike realized he had dated himself. "Did you say 72? Oh, I thought you said 82. See, that's when I was"

"No need to explain, Spike. I know your secret."

"What, do all the demons know about me by now?"

"No. Pyleans are Anagogic. I can hear people's thoughts when they sing."

Spike felt violated. "You broke into my mind without my permission? You rummaged around and uncovered my darkest secrets? That's sick, man! You're the Peeping Tom of the demon world."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it. I just came here to scout your band. I had no idea you had such a backstory. Now that I know the details, I do feel a little dirty, like I need to take a shower or something. But I must say, you're a beautiful cat. That thing you did for that girl, made me kind of misty in the eyes. And I've seen Gardars, so I know how tough they are to kill. You're a real champion."

"A champion. Bloody hell, that's so lame," Spike responded.

Lorne thought about it. "I guess it is kinda square. And I see from your rock star posing you're into the whole bad boy thing."

"When you've you've been playing the part for a century, it becomes second nature," Spike explains.

The reference to the distant past reminded Lorne of something he wanted to tell Spike. "I don't mean to pry, but this Angel fellow, he shouldn't make you insecure. Sure, he has a soul. But does he got Soul? Could he get up on stage and do what you do?"

Spike smiled. "You're right. He's got no Soul. No bloody rhythm. Couldn't carry a tune to save his soul, excuse the pun."

"Sounds a bit like my brothers back in Pylea. Big tough guys who can fight, but can't sing, can't dance, don't know the first thing about getting down. Is that what he's like?"

Spike smiled and chuckled. "Exactly. Perfect fit. I've met a few Pyleans in my time. All they cared about was the thrill of battle, overcoming impossible odds, risking their lives without a clue why they were doing it. Way I figure, if you don't have breakbeats, if you don't have ear-splitting feedback, if you don't have Soul, what is there to fight for?"

Lorne put his arm around Spike's shoulder. "Spike, you're my kinda fella. And your band, I dig. You got some people behind you who can really play. Here's my card. Give me a call, tell me when you can make it out to my desert dive, and your band's got itself a gig."

Lorne walked out of the Bronze. As he walked to his car, he heard a man singing in the alley. The man was singing "When The Children Are Asleep," from the musical "Cabaret:"

"When the children are asleep we sit and dream,

the things that every other dad and mother dream.

When the children are asleep and lights are low,

if I still love you the way I love you today,

you'll pardon my sayin', I told you so...

When the children are asleep, I'll dream with you.

We'll think what fun we have had and be glad

that it's all came true."

Lorne was a big fan of this musical about love, family, human weakness, damnation and salvation. This song occurs early in the musical, and is sung optimistically, by a man and a woman who are getting married and believe they will live happily ever after. But the version Lorne heard now was sung in a minor key. It was a song of resignation, an elegy to dashed dreams. It was poignant, and it was excellently sung, with exquisitely precise phrasing.

Then Lorne heard something else. He heard the man's thoughts. He heard something horrible. He knew people would be in danger. And he knew the only one who could protect them was the Slayer.

From having read Angel's and Spike's minds, as well as Cordelia's, Lorne knew what Buffy's house looked like and could approximate its location. (Lorne never heard Cordelia think about Buffy. But he did catch a glimpse of the time the maggot man attacked her and Xander at Buffy's house, so this helped him locate the house.) After a little driving around, Lorne was sure he had found the right place. He parked on the street, walked up to her door, and rang the doorbell. Dawn came to the door.

"Hello, young lady. Is Buffy Summers home?"

Dawn looked suspiciously at the demon at the door. She was hesitant to let him inside until Buffy had a look at him. Dawn yelled for Buffy, who was upstairs. "Buffy! There's a green demon in a loud suit at the door. He wants to speak with you!"

"You think my suit is loud?," Lorne asked Dawn.

"You look like a banana."

"That's just unfair. Bright colors, yellows and purples, go with my green skin. I have to consider my complexion. Can you imagine me in a sensible dark suit? That would really look ridiculous."

Buffy came to the door. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"You are the Slayer, are you not?"

"You're a demon and you don't know that? How clueless are you?"

"Oh, I know who you are. (Buffy had no idea how much Lorne knew about her.) Point is, I'm here because you are the Slayer. A demon will rise tonight and kill many people. So, naturally, you're the one to stop it. Am I right?"

"If I had a nickel for every time someone gave me this speech I wouldn't need a day job."

Lorne walked inside and sat down in Buffy's living room. "I'll take that as a yes. Now if you could turn the sarcasm down a notch I'll give you the details."

Buffy and Dawn walked into the living room. "So you're a friendly demon?," Dawn asked.

"I think it's pretty obvious that if I was an unfriendly demon I wouldn't last too long. I'm not exactly cut out for fighting and killing."

Buffy and Dawn sat down opposite Lorne. "So what are you then?," Buffy asked.

"Name's Lorne. I'm a Pylean. My people are fighters. I'm the sensitive one in the family, the one my parents are disgraced by. I'm a singer. I own a club called Caritas in Las Vegas. Check it out if you're ever in town. (Lorne couldn't resist a plug.) Also, I'm Anagogic, meaning I can read people's minds when they sing. People come by, do kareoke, ask me to help them like I'm their shrink. It's a marketable skill. Gives me an edge on the competition."

"You read people's minds," Buffy began. "I did that once. It was cool at first. Then it got annoying. Then I went insane."

Lorne explained why he hadn't gone nuts. "Humans are too weak to mindread, even Slayer humans. You lack the capacity to process the data. Being a demon, I can turn some voices off and listen to only one at a time, or none at a time. It's like having volume control and a tuner. Makes the gift manageable."

A demon who read people's thoughts while they sang. To Dawn, this sounded familiar and suspicious. "Lorne, I have to tell you something. A demon came here a year ago and made the whole town sing and dance and then he killed people and tried to kidnap me. You're not trying to do that are you?"

Lorne thought this is the most adorable idea he'd ever heard. "An entire town singing and dancing! I wish I had been here to see that. How precious! How Busby Berkeley! Well, except for the part about the killing and the kidnapping. I don't believe in going that far in the pursuit of art."

Buffy was still unsure why Lorne was there. "You're from Las Vegas. So what's the deal, you heard something out there about this town, and drove hundreds of miles to tell me?"

"No, of course not. Wouldn't that be odd. I was in town to check out a band that was playing tonight at the Bronze. I wanted to book them for my club. I was very impressed. Great band. And Spike, the lead singer, real star quality. By the way, I loved that club. All ages, $5 cover, live music every night, amazing thing to have in such a small town, especially for you young people."

Buffy knew Spike was playing at the Bronze tonight. Lorne knew all about Spike and Buffy. But Lorne preferred that people knew less about him than he knew about them. He wasn't going to let Buffy know that he was good friends with Angel. And he was going to act as if he knew little about Buffy's history with Spike.

Buffy immediately realized the problem. "You heard Spike sing. So does that mean you read his mind, that you know his thoughts, his memories?"

Lorne tried to downplay what he knew. "Not memories. I can just hear what's on a person's mind at a given moment. Their thoughts, hopes, dreams at that one instant. Nothing about past actions. To be honest, if I could hear memories, I wouldn't want to hear people sing. Too much information, if you know what I mean."

Dawn wanted to shift the conversation onto less uncomfortable ground. "So you've heard about Spike's band way out in Vegas? I didn't know they were so famous."

"I wouldn't call them famous. Let's just say they've become one of hundreds of bands club owners on the West Coast know about. They're new, so word spreads and people in the business get a little excited. Always looking for fresh blood, I guess." Lorne privately revelled in his little pun on Spike's past.

Buffy laughed. "So they're like vampires?," she playfully asked Lorne.

"Worse. They like to find wide-eyed young people and take their souls and suck them dry. Except you can't stake them through the heart. Actually, a few of them you can. But only a few."

Buffy couldn't take all the dancing around the obvious. "Enough with the teases Lorne. Let's just end this: what do you know about Spike, having read his mind and all."

"Finally. The tension was killing me!," Lorne exclaimed. "Yes, I know he was a vampire who became human a few months ago. And I know that he has certain unresolved romantic feelings for you, Buffy. Obviously, this must be very odd for you, given the circumstances. So perhaps it's best that we drop it. I'm not here to pry into your personal life."

Dawn couldn't resist a chance to look inside Spike's head. "Did you hear anything in Spike's head about me, Dawn?"

"I don't know what it meant, but I picked up something about how he's glad you aren't mad at him, because if you were he'd be afraid, because you're becoming powerful like your sister."

"He's afraid of me," Dawn said with evident pride. "I can make people afraid of me!"

"I know you didn't come here to talk about Spike," Buffy said to Lorne. "You mentioned something about a demon appearing tonight. So let's get down to business."

"Outside of the club I heard a man singing . He was planning to make a demon rise. The demon will be appearing in about 40 minutes. I don't know the name of the location where it will appear, but I can take you to the spot. We should get going. I'll explain the details on the way."

Buffy went to her weapons chest. "Since you know what I'll be facing, what do you suggest?," she asked Lorne.

He looked at her arsenal. "The ax would be best. Also that hammer would be helpful."

Buffy took those out. "You want anything for yourself?," she asked Lorne.

"Whatever you give me, chances are I'd use it to hurt myself rather than the demon. I'm not too good with weapons."

"Well you need something, just in case," Buffy told him. She pulled out the knife the Mayor had given Faith. "Here, take this," she said.

She casually tossed the knife to Lorne. He screamed and moved out of the way as if it were a live hand grenade. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"Jeez, you are bad with weapons. But take it. Actually, keep it. It was never one of my favorites. It just wasn't me."

Lorne picked up the knife and took a look and its sharp and ornate blades. "Well, I could always use it to fillet fish or slice garlic real thin." He took it and left with Buffy.

As they walked, Lorne explained. "It's called an Araxes demon. Walks upright. A little over six feet tall. Muscular. Claws, teeth, what you'd expect. You can kill it by stabbing its heart or severing its spine. But you can't behead it. In fact, its head is invulnerable, so don't waste your time trying to hurt the demon there.

"The Araxes demon is not naturally occurring. It rises when a human being in possession of very ancient magics performs a spell and unites with a Kantu demon. The Kantu is a harmless demon by itself. But when forcibly fused with a human it turns into an Araxes. The Kantu dies when the Araxes is born. But if we kill the Araxes right after it rises, there is a chance the human being can be saved."

Araxes was an ancient Greek corruption of an early Indo-European word for river. The Araxes demon was created by the joining of two "rivers," the person and the Kantu demon. Neither of these "rivers" is strong by itself. But when they converge they form the Araxes, which is mighty.

Buffy was upset, as she always was when people, people with souls, sought to commit evil. "Wonderful. The innocent Kantu dies. But the evil human who turned himself into a killer demon can still live. Why would a person turn themself into a monster? Just so they could cause as much harm as possible?"

"That would be one reason," Lorne answered. "Our fella, the one who's about to go demon, he already thinks he's a monster. He betrayed his wife, the only woman he ever loved. Because of this, he thinks he's evil. So he's given up. He can't go on living."

"Isn't that what suicide's for?," Buffy asked. It was a very insensitive but also entire appropriate question.

"If he does that, his wife will think she drove him to it. He knows that would scar her for life. So he's killing himself by becoming something else."

"What a considerate guy," Buffy scoffed. "He doesn't want to hurt his wife. So he'll become a monster which can hurt and kill lots of other people."

"Buffy, I think you're operating on a far higher moral plane than this fellow. Anyone who wants to turn themself into a killer demon to escape their problems is already a few tacos short of a combination plate, if you get my drift."

Clem was walking down the street with Jared, a demon friend of his. Clem saw Jared disappear, without warning. He just vanished. Clem was scared. He ran home. If someone was vaporizing demons, he didn't want to be next.

Lorne could see the spot where the demon would rise. He pointed it out to Buffy. She walked on about 20 feet ahead of him. "Buffy, I want to say thanks. Thank you for taking the time to help me."

"What can I say, it's my job."

"Toughest job I can think of," Lorne added. "You must have to deal with stuff like this all the time."

"Around here, something's always happening," Buffy told Lorne.

A few nights ago, when Buffy came home from patrolling, she flipped on the tv and saw the beginning of the Talking Heads' concert film "Stop Making Sense." The second song they performed, entitled "Heaven," resonated with Buffy, for reasons which are all too obvious to anyone who's heard the song. As she walked, Buffy started quietly singing the chorus:

"Heaven, heaven is a place.

A place where nothing, nothing ever happens.

Heaven, heaven is a place.

A place where nothing, nothing ever happens."

It should be pointed out that the chorus is preceded by the line "it's hard to imagine, that nothing at all, could be so exciting, could be this much fun." Buffy didn't sing this line. But, more than anyone on earth, she understood how true it was.

Buffy was far enough in front of Lorne that she felt alone. She didn't think he could hear her, much less read her mind. But Lorne could, and did. He hadn't come to Buffy to give her advice. But now he felt compelled to. Of course, to give her advice immediately after she was singing would be tactless. So Lorne waited until they arrived at the site of the rising. He checked his watch. They were five minutes early. Plenty of time for what he wanted to say.

"Buffy, I don't mean to meddle, but there's something I want to tell you. No one's put in this world to be happy. You must know that better than anyone. All this lonely, dangerous, thankless toil you perform. All the heroes who get parades, who get immortalized on stamps and in movies and books, I imagine that as the Slayer you've done more to help the world than all of them combined. At what does that get you? You get to live another day. You get do it all over again. It's like being trapped in Purgatory, except you're not being punished for anything you did. You're being punished for being you.

"What I'm trying to say is, no one is meant to be happy, to be truly, perfectly, contentedly happy. If we're lucky, we get one or two chances. We let them pass us by, and we end up alone. So if in the future someone comes along who wants to make you happy, you should to give them a chance, even though most of the time they'll end up making you miserable. It's no good to be miserable, but if you don't take the risk, you might never find the one who can make you happy. And no one deserves to be happy more than you do. Sorry. I don't know why, but I just needed to say that."

Lorne had made his case for Spike in the most abstract manner possible. His advice was so abstract Buffy didn't even know what it meant. Buffy never got a chance to ask Lorne what he meant, because a few seconds after Lorne stopped talking, the Araxes appeared. It was as Lorne had described it to Buffy. It had reddish brown rust-colored skin and bright green eyes. His head was large. Its bottom half was shaped like a triangle, with two sides of the triangle meeting at the chin. The top-half of the head was oval in shape.

"Congratulations on being born. Savor these moments, since they'll be your only moments," Buffy told the monster. It charged her. She kicked it in the chest, knocking it back a few feet. Buffy closed in. The Araxes threw a right hook. Buffy ducked and punched it a few times in the stomach.

The demon grabbed her and wanted to throw her. But Buffy escaped from the hold, grabbed the demon's left arm, and threw it to the ground. Lorne was very impressed. He knew she was this strong. But Angel always made her sound taller. The combination of petiteness and superstrength was something which had to be seen up close to be believed.

When the demon was on the ground Buffy pulled out her ax and swung for the monster's chest. He reached up and grabbed the ax handle. As Buffy struggled to keep him from ripping the weapon out of her hands, the Araxes kicked her in the stomach. Buffy flew back and fell to the ground. The Araxes stood up.

Buffy did manage to hold on to the ax. But she decided to put away the weapon for know and continue fighting the demon hand-to-hand, since that had been working so well. Buffy leaped in the air, stepped in the demon's chest with her left foot, then kicked the demon's chest with her right. He stumbled backwards. Buffy kicked the Araxes a few more times in the chest, then punched it six times in the chest. Then she kicked it in the kneecap, causing one of its legs to buckle. Buffy grabbed the demon by the arms and threw him back into the trunk of a tree. He looked like he was was done for.

Buffy pulled out her ax and drove it into the Araxes' head. In the heat of combat, she forgot that his head was invulnerable. When she drove it halfway into his head, and he showed no reaction, she remembered. She pulled the ax out and backed up. The sizable head wound caused by the ax healed in seconds.

The Araxes boxed Buffy in the ears with his two big paws. Then he hit her with two right jabs in the face. She dropped the ax. Then he grabbed her with his left hand, picked her up, and threw her to the ground.

He approached Buffy as she lay on the ground. When he got close, Buffy tried to sweep his legs out from under him. The Araxes was smart enough to anticipate this move and jump up out of the way. Buffy bounded up before he could land a blow on her while she was down.

The ax was on the ground, and Araxes was between her and the ax. So Buffy pulled out the hammer, the weapon Lorne recommended. She backed away from the Araxes so she had room to wield it. The Araxes threw a right jab. Buffy hit the fist with her hammer. As you can imagine, this really hurt.

Buffy swung and hit the Araxes on the top of its collarbone. She swung again and hit it square in the sternum. This blow would have killed a human by instantly stopping the heart. But of course as a demon the Araxes could withstand the blow, although it did hurt quite a bit.

The Araxes hit Buffy with a left jab. When she tried to swing the hammer again, the demon hit her hard in the ribs with a left hook. Buffy realized the monster could now only fight effectively with one hand. So her ran around the right side of the monster. He tried to grab her, but his shattered right hand was too weak to grip her.

Buffy now delivered two fierce blows to the demon's back, trying to shatter its spine. The blows caused the demon great suffering, but its spine remained intact. The Araxes quickly turned to face Buffy. She realized she needed a cutting weapon to stab it through the heart.

After Buffy lost her ax, Lorne was conscientious enough to run around behind the Araxes and pick it up. Now that she had moved behind the Araxes, Buffy was about ten feet in front of Lorne. Buffy turned quickly to look for her ax. Lorne threw it to her. She grabbed the ax with her right hand, and dropped the hammer, which was in her left hand.

Recognizing the danger he was in, the Araxes leaped at Buffy. He hoped to knock her down, land on top of her, and let his teeth do the rest. Buffy saw him in time to swing her ax and send it through the demon's heart. His weight and momentum caused the Araxes to fall on top of Buffy. After deadpanning "this reminds me why I like to be on top," Buffy pushed him off of her and stood up.

It was obvious the demon was dead. Buffy pulled her ax out of his chest and picked up her hammer. "Looks like the guy who conjured this thing didn't make it. At least he took no one with him. Lorne, thanks for your help. Always good to meet a friendly demon." Buffy walked away and headed for home.

Lorne had not given up hope. He looked carefully at the corpse. Imbedded in the demon's neck was a gold necklace containing small, flat disks of lapis lazuli. At the center of the necklace, just under the demon's chin, was a flat, two inch-wide onyx disk. There were carvings on the disk of a cone crossed by two arrows.

This was an extremely ancient Indo-European priestly symbol, something which would have been worn on the Eurasian steppe 5,000 years ago. Lorne knew it had something to do with magic. He figured this was what allowed the man to transform himself into an Araxes. He thought that if he could remove the necklace he could save the man.

But the necklace was imbedded in the demon's flesh. Lorne would have to cut it out. So he took out the knife Buffy gave him and began this unpleasant task. He needed something to distract him from the gore. He remembered that the guy who summoned the Araxes, the man he was trying to save, was singing a song from "Carousel." So Lorne quietly began singing "You'll Never Walk Alone," as he went about trying to save the man:

"When you walk through a storm keep your chin up high,

and don't be afraid of the dark.

At the end of the storm is a golden sky,

and the sweet, silver song of a lark."

At that point Lorne had cut the necklace loose. He stopped and listened. He heard something move inside the Araxes' chest. So he took the knife and sliced open the demon's chest from neck to waist. As he did, he sang a bit louder:

"Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,

though your dreams be tossed and blown."

When he pulled back the skin, he saw something curled up in a ball in the lower right side portion of the chest. He reached in to grab it. What he grabbed felt a lot like a person's arm. When he touched it, it moved. Lorne saw a hand. He grabbed hold and pulled the man out of the demon.

The man fell to the ground on his knees. He was covered in the Araxes' gooey green fluid. But he was breathing. He was alive. Lorne couldn't resist the moment. He sang at full volume the song's, and the musical's stirring finale:

"Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart,

and you'll never walk alone.

You'll never walk alone!"

The man stayed on his knees, vomiting up all the green fluid in his lungs. Lorne saw the man wretching. "Oh, come on now, my singing wasn't that bad!"

The man rubbed his eyes and wiped the goo off his face. Lorne recognized the man. "Marcus?, Marcus!"

"Wh–wha–where am I?," a disoriented Marcus asked Lorne.

"Oh god. Oh god. It was you. You did this."

"What's happening?," a still-disoriented Marcus asked as he slowly stood up.

"You got a second chance. You tried to sell your soul to the devil, but he wasn't buying. You screwed up big time. You gave up. But someone wasn't ready to give up on you."

Lorne was saying God wasn't ready to give up on Marcus. But, in reality, it was Lorne who wasn't ready to give up on Marcus. It was Lorne who saved Marcus. Lorne didn't realize this double meaning. He didn't realize that if God did save Marcus, he did so through Lorne, which would make Lorne an agent of God. It would kind of make Lorne an angel.

Marcus looked at Lorne. "Oh my God, it's you. The lounge-singing demon. What are you doing here?"

"Saving you from yourself." That reminded Lorne. He spotted the necklace on the ground and snatched it up, so Marcus could never use it to do harm again. He'd take it back to Vegas and let Groo smash it into powder.

Lorne could tell Marcus did not yet fully comprehend what had happened. "Marcus, go home. Actually, first get yourself cleaned up, put on some new clothes. Then go home. Trust me, she'll forgive you. After all, you're gonna have a kid together."

"What!!!," Marcus yelled.

Lorne had no idea what he was talking about. The thing about Marcus's wife being pregnant, that was baseless intuition. But Lorne explained. "Come on Marcus. You remember Carousel. You know what happens. Just don't go committing any armed robberies." (In "Carousel," the protagonist holds up a store a get money to provide for his infant daughter. In the course of the robbery, he is shot and killed.)

Lorne looked at his knife. He wiped it against the ground to get off the green goo. This was the first time that knife had been used to save a human life. Lorne walked back to his car, satisfied with his one-day excursion out of Vegas. Never had he done so much to help so many people in so little time.

But not everyone would be proud of what Lorne had said and done that evening. Angel would certainly feel betrayed on some level. After all Angel had done for Lorne, he went off and became Spike's volunteer public relations flack. But Lorne would consider this ludicrous. After all, Angel had Cordelia. And even Angel would admit he couldn't sing and lacked rhythm.

Lorne got in his car and began the drive home. As he headed through Sunnydale, he passed Xander and Connor. None of them saw each other. Xander had rented Akira Kurosawa's "Ran," a Japanese adaptation of "King Lear" which features some spectacular battle scenes and the best blood splatters ever captured on color film. Xander knew Connor would like the violence. And perhaps the violence would take his mind off sex.

As Lorne left Sunnydale, he was listening to Jackie Wilson's breathtakingly beautiful "To Be Loved:"

"Someone to care, someone to share,

lonely hours, and moments of despair.

To be loved, to be loved, oh what a feeling to be loved."

It was a bittersweet moment. Lorne knew loneliness. It's not like many women go for the green guy. And it was almost impossible to find a nice Pylean girl in this dimension. At least he was only 60 years old, so he still had practically his whole adult life ahead of him. Anagogic Pyleans live to be at least 200.

Buffy got home and went upstairs to check on Dawn.

"So I take it the demon's dead?," Dawn asked.

"Just like always."

"Do you know where Steven is? No one answers at Xander's."

"Xander told me he was taking Steven bowling tonight."

"Bowling? Xander trying to bond with him or something?"

"Dawn, I'm going out now for a quick patrol. I'll be back in a little while." Then Buffy went up to Dawn and hugged her tight. "I just want you to know I love you so much."

Dawn was worried. "Buffy, is something wrong? Are you dying? Am I dying!!"

"No Dawn. No one's dying. I just wanted to let you know that I love you and that I'm really proud of you."

Dawn was still worried. "Buffy, if this were a movie, you'd die in the next scene. I just want you to know I love you' is the queen of jinxes. You're really tempting fate. So please, be careful out there."

"Dawn, isn't telling you I'll be careful another royal jinx? Maybe not the queen, but certainly the duchess of jinxes. Besides, if this were a movie, I'd die when I had one day until retirement. Slayer's never retire."

Dawn didn't have to worry, since Buffy wasn't even going patrolling. She had realized what Lorne's little speech meant. And she was going to pay a visit to Spike.

Spike was in his crypt, playing the introduction to Dire Straits' "Romeo and Juliet" on his acoustic guitar. Heard the door open and turned to see Buffy. "What's that light?," she asked.

Spike realized that he had left the lid off the chest which contained the glowing Acacia crystal. "Uh, that's just a halogen bulb. I can turn it off if you'd like."

"No. I don't mind the light," Buffy told him. "I have something I need to tell you. I deserve better than you, Spike. And you don't deserve me. You deserved to be swept up in someone's dustpan a long time ago. But I've learned that in this world people don't get what they deserve.

"Spike, you've hurt me again and again. Every time I give you a chance, you give me a reason to regret it. And here I am, standing in a room which holds nothing but bad memories for me, giving you another chance."

Spike's eyes lit up. Buffy's opening diatribe had maximized the surprise. Here he was expecting her to bury him, and instead she answering his prayers (that is if he actually prayed, which he didn't).

Buffy continued. "I'm giving you a chance to surprise me, Spike. To show me that you can be a decent man. Someone I can be proud, rather than ashamed, to be with. Let's start over. Do this differently. See if we can get to know each other vertically."

Spike stood there, trying to figure out the meaning of Buffy's last sentence. After a few seconds he got it. "Oh! You mean vertically, as opposed to knowing each other horiz-. Oh, I get it." Spike thought about this for a few seconds and got worried. "This isn't going to become an eternal, defining facet of our relationship, is it? Say, a year goes by, and everything's great. Then we can reconsider this little experiment, can't we?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. Still seemed a little like the same old Spike. "Let's just say this little test lasts until I'm sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Spike gasped. His knees buckled. "D-d-did you j-j-j-just sssay?" was all he managed to spit out before stammering himself into gibberish.

"Come on, Spike. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

"Uh, ah, I guess. Absolutely it's what I want. I just never thought I'd hear you say you wanted it. Of course you couched it in the conditional tense. But I did hear you say it." Spike took a deep breath, shook his head and gave a playful half-smile. "Bloody hell. Those crackpots always saying today is the first day of the rest of your life. Today they're right."

"I wouldn't go singing from the rooftops just yet Spike. I don't love you. I don't even trust you. There's only two ways this can turn out. Bliss or heartbreak. And the odds are stacked against bliss."

This only emboldened Spike. "The longer the odds, the bigger the payoff. And I've always been a sucker for an all-or-nothing bet. Triumph or tragedy. Perfect, cause with you I don't give a damn about the in-betweens. Well, here we are. Let's begin again. Begin the begin. REM of course, not Cole Porter."

When he was nervous, Spike had a tendency to speak in song lyrics. He realized he was babbling. Then he thought about what he just said: Cole Porter. That was it! Spike had an idea, a way to break through the awkwardness.

"Buffy, it just occurred to me that we've never danced. It would be something. Something simple. Something vertical. How bout it?"

Buffy suspected this was just a pretext Spike was using to try to get her in bed. Then again, the whole point of her visit was to give Spike the chance to be his same old scummy self and see if he could resist the temptation. "Guess we gotta start somewhere," she answered.

Spike quickly found and put on something he thought was appropriate for the occasion. Spike and Buffy approached one another awkwardly. Spike put his left hand in Buffy's right hand. He put his right hand on her waist. She put her left hand on his back. Slowly, fitfully, they began to dance.The Acacia crystal on the other side of the room cast a dim, shadowy light which was perfect for the occasion.

After all they had done together, this moment was highly contrived. It was the height of artificiality. But then again, that was the point. As Buffy said, they had to start somewhere. And they certainly couldn't start where they left off.

The song they were dancing to was the Gershwins' "Someone To Watch Over Me." The song was originally written about a woman who believed she needed a man to protect her, to keep her safe, to make her happy. Lyrics like "I'm a little babe who's lost in the wood, I know I could, always be good, to one who'd watch over me" certainly didn't apply to Buffy. But they might apply to Spike. Reverse the genders, and the song was entirely appropriate. As a human being, Spike was lost without Buffy. And he knew he needed her, that he was miserable without her.

Buffy looked up at Spike's face and managed a tentative but hopeful smile. Spike was a perfect gentleman. It was everything Buffy wanted. Was it also a lie?


End file.
